Whatever Happened to Dodger?
by AuroraMercury67
Summary: Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?
1. Going Home

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. gasp Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**A/N: **I've been thinking about writing this story for weeks, but I haven't actually done anything about it until now (obviously). I don't know how far I will get because I hear it's really hard to keep writing fan fiction when you're not getting any reviews and I happen to know that stories like this don't usually get many reviews. People would much rather be reading about Harry Potter and whatnot. Not that I can blame them. I read a lot of Harry Potter fan fiction when I can't find anything else to do.

Well, this is no Harry Potter story. So, if that's what you were looking for you can just bug off. This is based on Oliver Twist, but since I am no Charles Dickens I cannot promise that it will end up being as good as the original. I basically wrote this because I was bored and I had off of school due to the hurricane that never came. I am a huge Dickens fan and Oliver Twist just happens to be my favorite book by him. I will tell you now so that there are no questions about it in the future that my favorite character is definitely Dodger. I really like the musical, Oliver!, and I think that Jack Wild was quite possibly one of the best Dodgers ever. And that is why this fan fiction is about the Artful Dodger.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43? I hope this will clear up any questions you have and explain to you exactly what happened to the Artful Dodger.

**Chapter 1: Going Home**

It was a cold, cloudy morning on the docks. A young man of about eighteen years stood looking out at the boats.

_So this is America? _He thought. _This is the country that everyone is suddenly flocking to?_

He chuckled to himself. Well, if this was the so-called "Land of Opportunity" then he wanted to go home. He couldn't for the life of him understand what was so great about this giant chunk of land. It was cold. It was dull. The people were incredibly rude, and all he wanted was some help getting home.

He decided to try his luck one more time. He stopped an educated looking man as he passed by.

"Excuse me, sir," the young man began.

The man stopped and turned to see who had spoken. He raised his eyebrows at the boy, for he was a mere boy in the eyes of the elderly gentleman.

The young man took this as a sign to continue.

"Could you possibly tell me which of these ships is sailing to England?" he rushed for fear of losing his audience.

The man neither smiled nor spoke. He simply lifted his arm and pointed at a terribly dull looking ship into which men were loading crates and boxes for the long journey across the ocean. The young man smiled, but before he had the chance to thank the gentleman for his assistance the man had walked away without even a second glance.

The young man shrugged and headed towards the ship. In his excitement he barely even noticed that he had started jogging until was standing by the ship in question. Several of the sailors carrying crates stopped to look at him. He cleared his throat and approached one of the men.

"Where is this ship headed?" he asked trying to sound as curious as he possibly could.

"To the mother country," the man replied looking suspiciously at the boy. "Why?"

"No particular reason," he was becoming very excited now. Could he possibly be going home? "Where can I find the captain of this fine ship?"

The man raised his eyebrows and responded with a simple "On deck" before the young man ran up the plank and found himself on the deck. A man who was without a doubt the captain was standing not far away watching the men as they loaded the vessel. He obviously saw the young man as he stumbled on board and made his way over.

"How may I help you, good sir?" the kind captain asked.

"Please, sir, this ship, it sails to England, does it not?"

The captain nodded the affirmative.

"Well then, I am willing to work my way there aboard this ship if you will allow it. I need nothing in return, just a passage there."

The captain surveyed the boy.

"Have you ever worked aboard a ship?" he questioned.

"Yes, sir, I have," he responded quickly. "Once," he added as an afterthought.

He had, in fact, worked on a ship to get to America, hadn't he? He needn't tell the captain the details of that voyage.

"Am I to assume that you are a reliable hand?" the captain went on.

"Of course, sir, and if I do anything to upset you along the way you have my permission to keep me aboard and bring me back to this god forsaken country." He shuddered noticeably at the thought of having to live here for the rest of his life.

The captain laughed heartily at this and clapped the boy on the shoulder.

"I don't usually do this, take in a man off the street, but I like you, boy, so for you I'll make an exception. Welcome aboard, sailor!"

"Thank you, sir, thank you!" the young man repeated enthusiastically as he rung the older man's hand.

The captain laughed once again.

"There's only one thing I need to know before we set sail," he said.

The young man stopped suddenly hoping that the captain was not about to ask for his police records or something of the sort that could ruin his chances of ever getting home.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Your name."

The smile returned to the young man's face as he answered.

"My name's Jack Dawkins," he told the captain who then told him what to do.

The young man did as he was told in a sort of dreamlike manner. He was going home. He was finally going home.

After six years, the Artful Dodger was _finally _going home.

**A/N: **And that's it! That's the end of chapter 1. How is it? Is it terrible? Should I quit? I was getting rather tired of calling him "the young man". He will always be a boy in my mind. That's just who he is! I'm not expecting many reviews but I would like at least one before I put the next chapter up. Please? Just one? I can assure you that this author's note will get longer as the story progresses. I am also looking for a beta. If anyone is interested please contact me. Thanks! Chapter 2 should be up within the next week but I'm not promising anything. It depends on how many people want me to keep going I suppose. We'll see how things go.


	2. The Journey

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. Gasp! Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?

**A/N: **I didn't want to write this chapter because I'm lazy, but Kelly made me. She gave me two warnings, which I received within one minute of each other. Then, if I still refused to write I would supposedly die, although she failed to mention how. She also gave me due dates for my chapters. This one has to be up by Wednesday. Let's hope I suddenly feel like writing seeing as it is Tuesday night already.

**Chapter 2: The Journey**

America was overrated. The Dodger had decided that at the start. He knew it from the moment his twelve-year-old eyes saw the coastline of his destination. He had felt nothing but hatred for the country as soon as his feet had touched the ground.

He now stood on the ship, his passage home, and looked out over the horizon. They would be awake back in America by now. They would have realized he was gone by now. They would have search teams out after him. But none of this mattered, for even if someone had seen him and could identify him to the police, there wasn't anything anyone could do about it. He was already on his way to England.

He wouldn't miss his home of the past six years, if one could even call it a home. He had had no freedom there. Wasn't that what America was about? Freedom? He had lived in a prison, literally. When he was twelve he had been caught picking pockets and sentenced to a lifetime of hard labor, and that's exactly what he got. Well, maybe not exactly.

He had done six of his years. The rest of his time was cut short, but not because of good behavior and whatnot. He had simply been lucky last night. He saw his opportunity to escape and had seized it without hesitation.

He laughed to himself as he imagined the frustration of those know-it-all guards at this very moment knowing that they had been outsmarted by a mere boy. It was all too funny. He felt no pity. That would be stupid, for if he had felt pity, he would not have run away in the first place. For the Dodger to show weakness was about as likely as it was for the sun to fall out of the sky and become extinguished in the ocean.

As for his current situation, the Artful was not pleased. He hated ships. He hated labor. Therefore, labor aboard a ship was quite possibly the worst punishment he could receive. He also hated being nice. He hadn't enjoyed being polite to the captain upon his arrival on the ship, but it was vital that he stay on his best behavior for the rest of the voyage, for if he didn't he would never make it home.

He had no possessions but the small sack of clothes and food and other small items he had managed to take from his cell mates without them noticing. Oh yes, he was still very good at picking pockets after all these years. He had been practicing, unbeknownst to his victims, and he was still very good at it. Although he could have been great by this point had he stayed in London and continued his apprenticeship under Fagin.

How he wished he had not tried to put that handkerchief back in that man's pocket. Even he had to admit that he had not been the sharpest boy of his age, but even a complete mome could tell you that what he did was stupid. He had always been very clever, but never very bright. It did not make much sense when put like this, but considering the Dodger's history it did.

All of that was in the past now, and the Dodger was going back to where he came from. America was behind him and England was ahead. There was no turning back now. He would pick up where he had left off and become a great thief. Many would remember him in years to come for what he would some day accomplish. However, at the moment he had absolutely no idea what that great accomplishment would be. Only time would tell.

"Dawkins!" he heard the captain yell. "Get your head out of the clouds and get to work."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered as he stomped off to his post.

He slowly began to mop the floor. Suddenly, he heard somebody scream something, but he couldn't tell what had been said over the loud rumble of thunder.

This was not good.

The clouds started to darken and the sun disappeared. The crewmembers began running in all directions. Dodger, not knowing what to do, simply leaned on his mop and watched the chaos unfold.

Men ran in every direction, securing crates and barrels, shouting directions, and lowering the sails. Meanwhile, the Dodger merely watched in amusement.

The captain seemed to notice the slacker and before long Jack Dawkins was working alongside the other men. He did what he was told without much arguing with the captain. He was determined to make it home and some storm wasn't about to stop him.

The rain was coming down it drops the size of saucers. The wind was blowing so hard that one had to strain to hear anything. It was then that the mast began to crack, making sounds as if it was going to break at any moment. The men who were at the top securing the mast began to shout for help. Some even came down. The captain then began to frantically search for someone who could help in some way shape or form. At that precise moment the wind blew a crate clear across the deck of the ship and the Dodger was forced to chase after it. The captain stopped him as he ran by after the runaway crate.

"Dawkins," he began, staring at the Dodger as though challenging him to refuse to do as he was told. "Climb up the mast and help secure the sail."

Dodger looked up the mast then back at the captain as though he was crazy.

"Me? Go up there? What's wrong with you? Why me?"

"Because you're light. You can fight the wind," was the response.

The Dodger failed to see how this was an adequate response, but complied in the end and quickly made his way to the giant wooden pole of death.

He began to climb the rope ladders, which were popping loose around him and flapping in the wind. Why was he doing this? At this rate he wasn't sure he was going to make it home at all.

He somehow managed reached the top safely where men were trying to secure the main sail in vain. It too was threatening to break loose of its binding ropes. By some twist of fate, Dodger and the others managed to secure the sail and climb back to the deck.

The storm carried on for quite some time, flooding onto parts of the ship and causing minimal damage.

Finally the storm ended and everyone managed to go about his business. The Dodger no longer saw the point in mopping the deck, so he decided to take a tour of the ship.

The voyage lasted a very long time, and they ran into just one other storm along the way. Many weeks later, when the ship approached land, the Dodger thought he could never be happier. His voyage had not been pleasant at all, but it was worth it. Right?

As the ship pulled into the harbor, the men began unloading cargo. Dodger helped until the captain called him over.

"So I suppose this is where your voyage ends, eh?" the captain asked.

Dodger tried to act as though he was at least a little bit disappointed.

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid it is."

"You're a fine boy. Not a trouble maker like most of my men."

This caused Dodger to chuckle to himself as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder, which was slightly heavier than it had been when he had first left America.

The captain failed to notice this as he continued.

"Here's a bit of money for your help."

Dodger took the money without even mentioning the fact that he had offered to work for free. It would have been stupid of him not to take it. He quickly pocketed the money and thanked the captain.

He waved goodbye to the crew members and turned to see England for the first time in six years.

Now the only question was, how would he get to London?

**A/N:** I never did get that review I wanted, but I think I'll survive. Please read and review. You can flame me if you want, just please review! So, ignore any mistakes you may see. I was under pressure. I can't say that I was too happy with this chapter. It wasn't quite what I wanted it to be. I an also unfamiliar with ships, so pay no attention to mistakes dealing with the ship.

The play _Oliver _is coming to New Orleans! I'm so excited! Tickets go on sale tomorrow. I really want to go. My dad might take me if he can get tickets. The play itself won't be until November. The week it will be here is also the week of my birthday, so I might just ask that that be my birthday present if my parents decide they don't want to buy the expensive tickets.

Okay, I seriously doubt you wanted to hear all of that, but since it had to do with the story (sort of) I decided to post it. So, chapter 3 will be up next week sometime. Read and review!


	3. London

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. Gasp! Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?

**A/N: **So, this chapter took quite a while to get up. I know, and I'm sorry. I'm lazy. Get used to it. Kelly gave me a whole month to work on this chapter (probably because in one day I posted chapter 2 and bought a ticket for her to go see _Oliver! _with me for my birthday). I wasn't planning on even typing this chapter up until the day before my month was up, but yesterday I got a REAL review and it made me want to write. Thanks to my reviewers (even though the first one was only Kelly)! Now, on with the chapter!

**Chapter 3: London**

After quite a lot of walking and some hitch hiking, Dodger finally made it to London.

As he stood in the street, he remembered how much he had missed London and England and all the people he grew up with. Of course, there was no telling where they were. Considering what they did for a living, they could be alive and free one day and in prison the next. Oh yes, he knew all too well the drawbacks of being a thief.

He didn't have anything better to do so he decided to go see if he could find someone he knew. Surely he would be able to find _someone._

Dodger walked through the city, paying about as much attention to the people he passed as they did to him. None. Slowly, the buildings around him became older and dirtier, until he was in the very slum of London. This was the part that he knew best.

He picked his way through the littered streets. He passed many familiar buildings and saw several people, but none of which he knew.

Finally, he came upon the building that he knew better than any of the others: Fagin's den.

Hoping against hope that someone would still be there, preferably Fagin and Charley, he climbed the steps one at a time. As soon as he had reached the top platform, he knew that there was no one there and that no one would be coming back.

There was nothing there to tell him that the building was empty. There were no signs that suggested that the building was unoccupied, besides the obvious dirt and grime. There was nothing, but Dodger had a gut feeling that he was all alone. Again.

He opened the door anyway and went inside. He climbed even more steps and his assumptions were confirmed. If Fagin and the boys were still living here somebody would surely have come to greet him by now. It had often been his job to answer the door but only because he was the only one whose ears could hear the distant knocking on the door. Charley had answered the door when Dodger didn't feel like it or wasn't home. That is, Charley would answer the door when he was sober enough to climb the stairs without falling down.

Dodger couldn't help but laugh at his childhood memories.

H slowly walked around the room, remembering more and more as he went.

He remembered trying to pick Fagin's pocket with Charley every day. He remembered playing whist with whoever was drunk enough to cheat money out of (usually Charley). He remembered sketching those ground plans of Newgate on the table with chalk that was barely visible anymore. He remembered Oliver Twist, and making that gullible boy clean his shoes.

Oliver Twist- could he possibly have anything to do with why everyone had disappeared? It was possible. The boy had caused much trouble in the short amount of time Dodger had been associated with him. The last Dodger had heard of the boy, Oliver had been shot and left in a ditch to die before being rescued by a family who kindly took him in and nursed him back to health. Dodger knew little more than that. Nobody had tried to contact him after he had been transported. Shows how much they cared about him...

Dodger continued through the house until he reached the bedroom. There were still many makeshift beds around the room, and there was definite evidence that many people had tried to escape quickly. Clothes had been thrown around the room and furniture had been knocked over.

Dodger found his hammock and examined his area of the room. It was almost exactly as he had left it that morning before he left for work. The morning he was arrested. He had not expected then that he would be forced to sleep in a cell that night. He hadn't known that he would not be back for a very long time. If he had known that, he would have made an effort to put his personal belongings away properly rather than throwing them in and around the crate under his hammock.

It looked as though Fagin hadn't even given Dodger's bed to someone else. But then again, he didn't know if Fagin had been around long enough to find someone to replace Dodger. No, nobody had used Dodger's bed since he had. It looked like someone had gone through his belongings, but that was to be expected when living among thieves.

Nothing appeared to be missing; although, there hadn't been much there to begin with. He didn't bother to see what was there and what wasn't. It was not important. He still had the clothes he had always worn, even though they no longer fit him. He had the rather large coat (which would probably still fit if he tried it on), and he had his old shoes. The only thing he did not have was his hat. He could not remember what he had done with his hat. He knew he had had it the day he was arrested for he never left home without it. He knew he had had it the day of his trial for he remembered the officer telling him to take it off in the courtroom only to start an argument with a twelve year old boy over a hat. Yet, he did not remember having it the day he left for America. This only slightly bothered him. He had been rather fond of that hat, but he pushed it out of his mind and went back to looking through his old belongings.

He slid the crate to one side and lifted the floorboards. This hiding place hadn't been discovered in his absence, much to his surprise. He reached into the hole and lifted out a small stack of bills. It was the money he had saved and hidden away when he was younger. Fagin had allowed them to keep a small portion of the money they earned- or more accurately, the money they stole.

Dodger had spent most of his money on food and gin, but there was still a good bit left. He was glad he hadn't spent all the money because he needed it. The money he had received for working on the ship would not be enough.

He counted the money and stood up to go, but as he walked towards the door the hammock next to his caught his eye. There was nothing special about this bed. It was no different than any of the others.

It had been Charley's bed. Dodger remembered all the times the two of them had been reprimanded by Fagin for staying up too late and talking too loud while everyone else had been trying to sleep.

Charley had been Dodger's friend. One of the few friends he had ever had.

Dodger paused only for a moment to wonder what had happened to the boy, but he did not dwell on it because for all he knew Charley could be in prison for picking pockets.

He took one last look around the room and left without looking back once. He hoped to find someone he knew. Anyone would be fine. All he wanted was some answers to his questions. He wanted to know what had happened to everyone and why no one had contacted him in six years.

There was only one place he could think of looking at a time like this: The Three Cripples.

When he arrived at the old pub, he found it, too, had been deserted. It, unlike Fagin's place, showed signs of a scuffle from long ago. Furniture was askew, bottles and mugs were broken on the floor, and a thin layer of dust covered everything.

Dodger simply shrugged it off. So he had to start his life all over again. That would not be a problem. All he needed was a crowded street and several wealthy people and he could easily double and triple the money in his pocket in one afternoon.

And that is exactly what he planned to do

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**A/N:** Yay! Chapter 3! I've already started on chapter 4. Uh oh. I'm working ahead. This is not like me. I'd like to thank my reviewers (I can finally say that!). Oh, I'm having fun typing so I think I'll do personal thank-you's.

**Syn67501**: Thank you so much for your review! Chapter 3 would still not be up if it wasn't for you. Your review made me want to write. I'm glad you like the story. Dodger is one of my favorite literary characters ever. He's so funny! Thanks again for your review. Hope you like this chapter!

**Guess Who**: Thank you for your review. It was...different. I am sorry I confused you by making Dodger nice in chapter 1. I will try my hardest to make him mean. Would that make you happy? I assure you, he will survive for a little while in London without the hat. I will get to that part in a couple chapters or so. It is, believe it or not, an important part of the story. I agree though, Dodger is just not the same without the hat. You're going to have to bother me more often if you want these chapters out faster. I know you don't remember but you definitely gave me a month for this chapter. You gave me from September 24 to October 24. Don't ask me how I remember that but I do. Oh well. I got it out before the month was over. Happy? Kelly loves Joey! What?! How'd that get there? Who typed that? Don't hurt me!!

So, chapter 4 should be up fairly soon considering I already started on it. It will probably be posted by next week. I'm not sure how much time I will have to work on it yet.

Read and review!! Thanks!


	4. The Kid

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. Gasp! Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?

**A/N: **So, yeah... I'm updating. Yay! Thanks for the reviews. Personal thank yous at the end. This chapter was written while I was watching The Great Mouse Detective. I just hope mice don't end up in here somewhere. I like this chapter, but I don't know why. I hope everyone else likes it too. Here it is!

**Chapter 4: The Kid**

Dodger had been in London for several weeks. He had managed to find a place to sleep without much difficulty. He set up his sleeping quarters in an old building much like Fagin's. It was far away from other people, but he liked it better that way. There was no one to bother him.

So far, he had gotten on pretty well on his own in the city. Money was never really an issue. He managed to find enough money to buy what he needed.

Working for himself was so much easier than working for Fagin. He could keep all of the money he made and control his own working hours. He could go where he wanted and take what he wanted. There was only one rule: don't get caught.

It was the one rule in the unwritten pickpocket's handbook. Anybody who had dared to take a wallet at least once in their life could tell you that this was the only downside to picking pockets for a living.

This barely bothered Dodger anymore. He had been caught before and he figured that if he could escape once he could escape again. The only thing that worried him even the slightest was the thought of being giving a tougher punishment next time. Hard labor was one thing but death was another entirely.

So, if he followed the rules, he would be safe. Of course, Dodger had never been known to follow the rules. He had only done what he was told several times in his life, and only if it wasn't something too strenuous or boring.

One month later he was still safe. So far so good.

Dodger wasn't one to go looking for trouble, but if he happened to find it he often had a hard time ignoring it and walking in the opposite direction.

That is exactly what almost got him in trouble again one day.

Dodger was walking down the street, minding his own business (and the business of the well-dressed man in front of him), when he heard someone crying for help.

He ignored it and continued his pursuit of the gentleman who would unknowingly be buying supper for a certain boy that afternoon.

But there it was again. There was that cry for help. It sounded like a child.

Once again, Dodger ignored it, but then the cries grew louder and the gentleman began to look around for the source.

Silently cursing the bodiless voice, Dodger quickly hid in an alley nearby. There, he found the source of the voice. It _was_, in fact, a small child. It was a little boy. He could not have been more than five or six years old.

The reason why he had been screaming quickly became evident. There were several older boys surrounding him. The oldest looked to be around Dodger's age. They appeared to be trying to take something from the boy who was clutching whatever it was as if it was his most prized possession.

Against his better judgment, Dodger stepped forward and shoved some of the boys out of the way and approached the eldest.

The boy was taller than Dodger, but that didn't seem to stop him from causing trouble. He looked the boy square in the eye and asked what the problem was.

"Problem? There's no problem," the boy responded.

"You lie," Dodger spat back. "I don't know who you think you are, beating up a child more than half your age."

He chuckled before continuing.

"Me and my friend did things like this when we were nine."

The boy looked very insulted. He shoved Dodger causing him to take a step back.

"And who are you, telling me what I can and can't do and telling me I'm a child?" he asked.

Dodger smirked.

"I don't think it matters much, does it?"

Dodger's confidence seemed to annoy the boy. He swung at Dodger's head, but he quickly ducked, causing the boy to hit nothing but air. This only angered him more.

He swung again. This time Dodger moved to the right so that the boy accidentally punched one of the other boys.

Dodger laughed. This was fun.

Now it was Dodger's time to fight. He punched the boy square in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. The boy had amazingly slow reflexes.

The boy jumped up and aimed another blow at Dodger.

Before anyone knew what had happened, a fight had broken out between the two boys.

Suddenly, one of the boys cried out, "Run! Run! It's the beak!" and all the boys scattered.

Dodger laughed as he stood up and brushed himself off. He was sporting a busted lip, but that was all. The other boy would be lucky if his nose was not broken.

The Dodger looked around. There was no one in sight, not even the little kid the older boys had been picking on, but that was alright because Dodger had not started that fight to help the little kid. He had started the fight simply because he had been bored. It had certainly cured him of his boredom.

He once again started down the street in search of money for supper. He found a subject and began to follow him cautiously. The man stopped at a fruit stand and Dodger saw his opportunity. He was about to take the wallet when he suddenly got the feeling he was being watched.

He quickly made it look as though he, too, was looking at the fruit. Out of the corner of his eye he tried to check to make sure he was not being watched. He did not see anyone, but by this time, the gentleman was gone. Dodger slowly turned around and saw a small boy watching him from across the street.

_Oh no,_ he thought. _Not again!_

He did _not_ want to be stuck with another little kid. It only led to sorrow. He could still remember Oliver Twist.

Ignoring the child, Dodger started walking down the street again, determined to get money this time, but once again he stopped and turned around. The kid was following him, and he also stopped.

Dodger ignored it yet again and kept walking. So did the boy. Dodger stopped. So did the boy. This was getting very old very fast.

Finally, after some more walking and stopping, Dodger addressed the child.

"May I help you?" he asked politely.

The boy shook his head.

"Well then why are you following me?" Dodger asked.

"Th-thank you," the small child managed to get out.

Dodger was about to ask the kid why he was thanking him when he recognized the child. It was the boy he had saved from the bullies.

"No problem, kid. Now go find your mother."

At this last remark, the boy started to cry.

Dodger sighed and asked the boy what was wrong.

"My- my mother was taken away!" the boy sobbed.

"Taken away? By who?"

"The police."

"Where'd they take her?"

"To the prison."

"What did she do to get arrested?"

"She was caught... picking pockets."

This took Dodger by surprise.

"Where's your father?"

"I don't know!"

Dodger sighed again.

"C- can I stay with you?" the child asked.

"What's your name, kid?" Dodger asked.

"Timothy," the boy sniffed.

And against his better judgment, Dodger agreed to let the boy come with him.

"But only until one of your parents are able to look after you." He repeated this several times to make sure the boy understood. He did.

"Good. Now then, maybe we should find some food."

Dodger did not like this new arrangement at all, but he knew what it was like to be small and helpless with no one to look after you. He also knew that the best solution to this situation would be for the child to find a temporary home to keep him out of prison.

This would definitely be interesting.

* * *

**A/N:** And that's chapter 4. Yes, that's the whole chapter. I hope it wasn't dreadfully boring. My ear just popped, but I'm sure nobody really cares. Umm...I don't know when chapter 5 will be up, but Kelly is pretty mad at me at the moment because she just realized that I always manage to get very long extensions on the due dates of these chapters. Ha! You're so gullible Kelly. So, personal thank yous:

**You're gonna die: **Thank you very much for your kind and wonderful review. It is greatly appreciated, even though you threatened my life. Yes, I know how much you like Charley and Dodger's hat. That chapter was supposed to shut you up, but apparently nothing does that. I agree that my punctuality does need to be corrected. You have to quit giving me extensions and keep bothering me until I write. Thanks for the review, Kelly. Hope you like chapter 4...even though there's no hat or Charley or drinking. I'm just a failure to you aren't I? Sorry to disappoint you. Review anyway.

**Kokoro no Yami: **Thank you so much for reviewing. I'm glad you like it so far. I know he has to get his hat back. It is all part of the story. You and Kelly need to be patient and wait. I will get there eventually. He may very well meet up with "the old fogies" again. Ha! Ha! Fogies... I like that word. I read Confusing Time. I really liked it. It was really good. I like Alice in Wonderland but can't find too many good fics. Yours was very good though. I would have reviewed if I could but my computer simply won't allow it. Sorry. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

And to everyone else out there: Read and review! Thanks!


	5. Getting Along

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. Gasp! Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?

**A/N: **I know it took me forever to get this chapter out, but I'm a procrastinator. It's what I do. Chapter 5 is finally up (obviously). You should all be especially appreciative for this chapter. How many people do you know that will take the time to write and upload _on their birthday?_ That's right,today ismy birthday. Money and gifts will be accepted at the end of the chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 5: Getting Along**

Dodger was trying to get something accomplished as he walked through the busy streets of London. It would be nice to be able to eat a decent meal for once. But apparently he wasn't allowed to work. A certain boy would not leave him alone.

"What's your name again?"

"Dodger."

He had stated his name for the boy more than enough times. This boy was obviously not the brightest.

"That's an odd name."

"So's Timothy."

"No it's not!"

Dodger was unbelievably close to going from pickpocket to murderer in less than a second. He had been putting up with the boy for several days now and had had all he could stand.

The boy laughed at the last comment from Dodger.

"Timothy is not an odd name. It's the name my mother gave me when I was born," he informed Dodger.

Dodger chose not to comment, but the boy kept talking.

"Did your mother name you Dodger?"

"No."

"Then who did?"

"Friends."

"What did your mother name you?"

"Jack."

"Why?"

That was enough.

"Look, you annoying little creature, I cannot take your persistent babbling any longer. So either wise up and shut your mouth or go find a nice hole to live in until your parents return."

That shut the kid up for all of five minutes. It was the most wonderful five minutes of Dodger's life, but it ended too soon.

The boy started humming a song that school children often sing.

Dodger tried to control his temper. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he did his best to block out the noise coming from the boy trailing behind him.

This time, Timothy stopped making noise without being told or threatened.

A few minutes later, the humming started again. It was immediately followed by a _crunch_.

Dodger stopped and turned around slowly to investigate the sound.

The small child was still humming and staring at the people and buildings around him. Not only that but he was eating an apple.

Dodger eyed him suspiciously.

"Where'd you get that?" he inquired.

"Guess!"

"No, tell me where you got it."

Dodger did not feel like playing games.

"Not until you guess!" Timothy laughed.

"NO!" Dodger had just about lost his patience.

"YES!" Timothy obviously thought it was funny. He laughed again.

Dodger took a deep breath.

"Fine," he said, giving in. "I'll guess, but if I'm wrong, you have to tell me the right answer."

Then, without waiting for a response, he continued.

"Did somebody give it to you?"

"Nope!"

"I was wrong. Now, tell me where you got it." Dodger was trying his best to not let his frustration be heard in his voice.

"I picked it up off the apple cart back there," Timothy responded.

"You stole it?" Dodger asked incredulously.

Timothy quickly shushed him.

"Don't talk that loud! If somebody hears, I'll get in trouble!"

It was Dodger's turn to laugh.

"Calm down, kid. Where'd you learn to take things without getting caught?"

"My mum and dad taught me," he whispered.

Dodger started walking again. Timothy had to run to keep up.

"What else did your mum and dad teach you?" Dodger asked.

"Not very much. I've only just gotten tall enough to reach things," he sounded a bit disappointed in himself. "But I can take apples!" he added excitedly.

"So I've seen," Dodger mumbled. He began to think.

This kid had potential. He could teach him how to pick pockets. Then, there would be more money.

He watched the child eat his apple. Dodger couldn't help but smile to himself.

Maybe the boy wasn't so bad after all.

Later that day, Dodger sat on the front steps of an old building, and watched Timothy attempt to take simple things like apples and bread. The kid wasn't half bad. Even Dodger had to admit that.

Timothy's only setback was that he was often too short to reach pockets. This appeared to disappoint him only slightly though he was very proud of his apple stealing abilities.

He was able to weave in and out of masses of people without being seen because of his height, or lack thereof.

By the end of the day, they had accumulated about five apples and three loaves of bread. Not bad for the first day. If he kept this up, he'd be taking handkerchiefs, wallets, and watches as soon as he grew another couple inches. Perhaps he could practice on short people.

Dodger didn't know how long he would have to watch the boy. He didn't know how long it would take for his parents to return and take him off his hands. All he knew was that maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he had thought it would be. Maybe they'd actually get along. Maybe.

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**A/N: **Whew! That was a long 'un. Well, it was compared to my other chapters. Ha! DidI really just say "long 'un"? My goodness,I need to take a vacation up north. I've been living in the south for far too long.Yes! Today is my birthday. I will be accepting presents in the form of a gift or money...or just a review! And speaking of reviews, thanks to all of my reviewers! I got 3 reviews for that last chapter! It's a new record. I've never had more than 2 reviews for a chapter before. Thanks!

**Go charley...or something: **Yes Kelly, the kid's name is Timothy. I offered to change it, but I couldn't think of a better name and _someone _couldn't help me. No, Agamemnon is _not _a better name. Hehe...you ended up giving me an extension, which is exactly what you said you wouldn't do. You're a pushover. You really are. Here's your chapter 5.

**The Lady Quotes: **Haha! I stillpicture him with his hat too. I can't help it. It's his hat! I assure you that he will get his hat back eventually. I'm beginning to think that if I don't put the hat in the story soon, my reviewers will form an angry mob and burn my house down. Yeah, Dodger and Charley are great. If you are thinking of attempting to write a story like this, I say go for it! We need more Oliver Twist fanfics on would definitely read it. Thanks for your review. Enjoy chapter 5!

**Mlle. Verity: **Thanks for your review. I'm glad you like it so far. I'm trying to keep him as Dodger-like as possible, but it's harder than it looks. I think I'm finally getting the hang of it though. Hope you like chapter 5!

I don't know when chapter 6 will be up. I have a lot to do this week. I might be able to find time to write it next week over Thanksgiving break. We'll see. Thanks again to all my reviewers and anyone else who may be reading this but not reviewing.

Read and review!


	6. Visiting Hours

**Whatever Happened to Dodger? **

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. Gasp! Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43? I hope this will clear up any questions you have and explain to you exactly what happened to the Artful Dodger.

**A/N: **Here is chapter 6! In this chapter, the story might actually develop a plot. Yay! Plotless stories are great fun because you can do anything with them, but all good stories have a plot so they aren't as confusing. That's what I want to do here- make this a good story. That might take a little work… Right, sorry for the delay on this chapter. I really wanted to get it out sooner but I simply couldn't because I had too much to do. Last week, I was in the Nutcracker and we practiced every night from 4 until 9. Then, this week I had about 4 different projects to do and three piano recitals. I haven't slept in two weeks. I'm so tired. Now that it's Christmas holidays, I have a bit more time to write. I'm hoping to get chapter 7 out too before I go back to school. Ha! Wishful thinking.

**Chapter 6: Visiting Hours**

Although Dodger was compelled to beat the boy out of frustration at least five times a day, he managed to control his temper. They got along fine and, after a while, Timothy only angered Dodger about twice a day. It was an improvement.

One day, the subject of Timothy's parents rose once again. It was not a common topic of conversation between the two boys, but it had come up once or twice before. This time, instead of just making sure the child actually had parents who would come back at some point to take their son away, Dodger actually decided to find out a bit about these parents.

They were eating breakfast before going out to work.

"Me mum cooks much better than you do," Timothy offered, staring at the watery soup he was expected to eat.

"Thanks," Dodger replied. What did this child want? A three-course meal like the rich people ate? There was no possible way. Not only could they not afford much more than they had, but Dodger had just escaped from six years of prison. When was he supposed to learn how to cook? That certainly was not taught where he had been.

"When Mum comes back, I'll have her cook a meal for you," Timothy continued like a steam engine going full speed.

"Thanks," Dodger repeated, but then, deciding to take advantage of the conversation changed from his sarcastic state of being to one where he seemed interested.

"Where did you say you mother was?" he inquired.

"Prison," came the child's quick and ready answer as he continued to play with his soup.

"The one here in London?"

"Yes, the one next to the flower stand."

"How would you like to visit her?"

The boy's face immediately lit up.

"Can we really, Dodger? When can we go? Can we go now? I'll get my shoes!"

Dodger barely had time to comprehend what the child was saying before Timothy was halfway out the door.

"Whoa!" cried Dodger. "Not so fast. We can go see her later today."

Timothy's smile did not falter a bit.

"Alright. I suppose that's fine."

And with that he went back to playing with his breakfast.

---------

As they walked down the crowded street toward the prison, Dodger could not help but remember the last time he had taken this journey. Unlike that time however, he was not being pulled along by an angry policeman now, but by a six-year-old eager to see his mother.

"Hurry up!" the boy screamed, tugging at Dodger's hand.

Dodger refrained from pointing out that this boy's mother was not going anywhere anytime soon unless it was court or the drop. He really hoped it would not be the latter for that could mean he would be stuck with the boy forever.

Timothy dragged Dodger into the courthouse located next to the prison.

"May I help you?" asked the policeman sitting behind a desk.

"Yes," Timothy responded.

The policeman leaned over his desk to look at the child. He did not look like a pleasant man.

Dodger quickly clamped his hand over the boy's mouth and pushed him out of the way.

"Yes," Dodger said in response to the man's previous question. "We are looking for this boy's mother. She may be a prisoner here."

"There is only one woman presently in our cells. What is the name of the woman you are looking to see?"

"Timothy," Dodger asked. "What is your mother's name?"

Dodger released his hand from over the boy's mouth to hear his response.

"Mum," Timothy replied matter-of-factly.

Dodger sighed and turned back to the policeman who was getting annoyed.

"Look," he said. "We don't know her name. You said you only have one woman here. Bring her out. If it's not her, the boy will know and we'll leave."

The policeman looked skeptical, but nodded and turned to where the cells were located, his keys in his hand.

He returned before long with a woman.

"Mum!" Timothy shouted excitedly.

"Timmy!" his mother cried as she hugged him.

Dodger shrank back into the shadows so as not to interrupt this reunion. He did not bother to pay attention to what was going on. All he wanted to know was when Timothy's mother would be released so he would not have to look after him any longer.

He was brought back from his thoughts at the mention of his name.

"How did you get here?" Timothy's mother asked.

"Dodger brought me."

"Ah, you've been making friends? Well, tell Dodger I said thank you."

"Tell him yourself. He's right behind you."

"Oh?" the woman turned to face Dodger who stepped out of the shadows he had been hiding in.

The woman looked at him and smiled. Suddenly, her smile faltered and she looked as though she were studying him.

She peered at him through narrowed eyes.

"Dodger?" she whispered.

He was a bit confused. What was wrong with this woman? Surely she belonged in a mental institute rather than a prison. Then, he recognized something about her.

"Bet?" he asked incredulously.

She smiled and ran to hug him. Dodger, not being used to hugs just stood there and let her hug him.

"But what are you doing here?" she asked. "Last time I saw you, you were twelve and in prison, 'bout to be transported."

"I was transported," he answered. "I was shipped overseas, but I escaped. Just recently, I did. Been away from London for six years. Just came here by ship illegally a couple weeks ago. But what about you? I didn't hear from anyone the whole six years I was away. Where is everyone? What happened? From what I saw, it seems like there was a bit of trouble."

"Oh, there was," Bet lowered her voice so the jailor would not hear. "It was all that Oliver Twist's fault. You shouldn't have picked him up off the street, Dodger. He was nothing but trouble. I'm not sure what happened, but I think he peached. He told that rich gentleman that took him in where Fagin lived. The beak came. They took Fagin and a good number of the boys. Then, they went to the Three Cripples. They arrested everyone in there. It was not pretty, Dodger. Not at all."

Dodger was shocked. It took him a moment to clear his head of all the questions he needed answered.

Once he had found his voice again, he spoke.

"What about you? You got away."

"Oh, hardly. When I saw them taking everyone away, I started screaming. They finally decided I'd gone mad and took me away to the hospital. I hadn't gone mad though. I was just afraid. It was like one big nightmare. They let me go once they had decided I was fine and I had convinced them I had nothing to do with the other group of people they had arrested and that I just happened to be walking through at the wrong time. You were lucky to have gotten away before then, Dodger because I doubt even you would have been able to dodge that one."

"What about Bill and Nancy?"

"Dead. Both of them. Nancy had been trying to get Oliver to the rich people behind Bill and Fagin's backs. Bill killed her for it. Then he was killed for murdering Nancy."

"And Fagin?"

"He was arrested. It was the drop for him."

Dodger was almost afraid to ask any more questions, but he had to know the answer to just one more.

"Charley?"

At the sound of this name, Bet's face brightened.

"He got away," she whispered urgently. "He was a lucky one, he was. He managed to escape. Last I heard of him, he was up in Northamptonshire working as a farmer's drudge."

Dodger laughed.

"Can you imagine Charley doing work?"

He could not help but laugh at the mental image of his best friend milking cows and planting vegetables. It was so much easier to just take all the milk and vegetables you wanted. Charley, of all people, knew that. So, why was he out there _working_?

Timothy, growing bored with the story telling, began to tug on Bet's dress.

"Mum, are you coming home with us? I told Dodger you would cook for him. He's a terrible cook!"

Bet smiled.

"No, Timmy, I'm sorry. I can't come home today. I will soon though. I promise."

"How long are you here for?" Dodger asked.

"Oh, only another three or four weeks," she replied. "They didn't have any evidence that I stole anything. It was a summary conviction. I was only given six weeks for it."

"You were lucky," Dodger said. "Not all of us are."

"Hm, yes you did get yourself into quite a bit of trouble, didn't you? Even weeks after you had been arrested, Charley couldn't stop talking about how brilliant your performance in court had been and insisted that you'd make a name for yourself someday even if you had to do it from inside a prison cell."

Dodger chuckled. That was Charley for you.

The jailor appeared to be getting angry that the visit had lasted so long already, so Dodger decided it was probably a good time to go.

"Um, Bet, where is Timothy's father?" he asked.

"Oh," Bet replied. "You remember Tom."

"Chitling?" Dodger asked incredulously.

Bet blushed slightly.

"Yes."

"He's the father?"

"Yes, I was pregnant with Timothy when they invaded our homes and took Fagin and the rest. Tom managed to escape. After I was released from the hospital, I went back to him. He helped me raise Timmy. A couple weeks ago, he left to work in the mill, as he is accustomed to do every few months or so. It provides extra money. He left before I was arrested and doesn't know anything about it. He will be worried when he gets back and finds nobody home."

"When do you expect he'll be back?" Dodger asked.

"In about two or three weeks, probably before I am released."

Dodger was silent for a moment.

"I'll look after Timothy until either you or Tom are capable of taking him home."

Bet thanked him profusely. Dodger did not like the fact that he had just promised to do something that he knew he would regret.

The impatient jailor came forward at that time.

"Alright," he said. "You've had plenty of time to socialize. Now, it's time for you to go about your business and leave this place."

Dodger did not like the sound of the jailor's voice. It was rude and commanding and somewhat familiar. The officer addressed Dodger as Bet and Timothy exchanged farewells.

"Oy, you there," he said, referring to Dodger. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Something clicked in Dodger's mind. Uh oh. This was the jailor who had been given the task of looking after the Artful when he had been arrested and given one of these dirty cells to sleep in. This very officer had accompanied Dodger to court. Of course this man would know him, he had seen him many times on the street as well as in prison. But why was he still here? Surely he should have died off by now. What was the average lifespan of a jailor who had nothing better to do than to look after convicted thieves anyway?

"I said, do I know you?" the jailor repeated. "Were you here before?"

"No," Dodger replied, silently grabbing Timothy's arm and edging towards the door. "Of course I've never been here before. What do you take me for, some low-life pickpocket? Certainly not. I am your everyday hard-working gentleman, I am. All I need is a hat to top it off."

Dodger saw the realization in the man's face, but before the jailor had a chance to say or do anything, Dodger had pulled Timothy out the door and was gone.

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**A/N: **Wow! I _never _expected so many reviews for one chapter! I was so excited. They just kept coming. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

**The Lady Quotes:** Thanks! I'm glad you cousin likes this story. I've certainly been having fun writing it. Ha! My computer doesn't always cooperate, but it always lets me update. The delay is always because I am too lazy to turn on my computer and write. I hope I never go three months without updating. That could be bad.

**look it! i can review!: **Congratulations, Kelly. Thanks. I'm glad you approve of my characters. You're approval means so much to me (in case the sarcasm was lost between my computer and yours, it's there). Don't worry, I will try my best to keep you from making corny jokes ever again. I have no problem with that. If you seriously expect 30 chapters of this, you've got another thing coming. There is no possible way I could write 30 chapters. I'm thinking there will probably be about 15 chapters altogether, 20 if you're lucky.

**Starkiller: **Thanks! I've noticed the lack of Oliver Twist stories and decided to do something about it. I haven't read Jackanapes. I've heard of the book and I've read the sample chapter on the website but I haven't actually read the book. It seems like a really good book. I'd like to read it. It seems very well written. I could never write that well. Wish I could though. Hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!

**Crazyfairy: **Thank you! I'm glad you like this story so far. Thanks for your constructive criticism. It is greatly appreciated. The only thing I wasn't sure of was where it said he went to Australia. I've never read that before. I've read the unabridged version of this book three times, once when I was eight, once when I was twelve, and once when I was fifteen. I also reread the last eleven chapters of the book after reading your review. I still have never heard of him going to Australia. I really don't feel like changing the whole first chapter, but if you can show me where it says that in the book, I will gladly fix it. Thanks for the review!

**Hannah the Fly: **Thanks!I actually have seen the 1948 version of Oliver Twist. It was good. The 1968 musical is not only my favorite adaptation of the story, but it is quite possibly my all-time favorite movie. I don't know why I like it so much, I just do. I don't like the 1998 version so much. I like it but not as much as the others. Have you seen that one? I've also heard that they are filming another version right now and it will be released in 2005. This chapter is for you. Dodger found out about Fagin and the others. His reaction to what he just heard will be shown more in the next chapter. Thanks again! Keep writing your story too. It's really good.

Thanks again to everybody! I have no clue when chapter 7 will be up. Hopefully, I can write it before I go back to school, but I seriously doubt that will happen.

Happy Holidays!

Read and review!


	7. Consequences

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. _Gasp!_ Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?

**A/N: **I wasn't very happy with the way chapter 6 turned out and I know that some of my reviewers didn't like it either (although I was really surprised by the number of reviewers who said they actually liked it). I'm sorry about that. I just couldn't figure out how to write it. I had to make that scene happen somehow, but I couldn't figure out how. I'm hoping this chapter will put everything in its place so there won't be as many concerns about the last chapter. If this chapter doesn't make everything better, please tell me and I will consider revising chapter 6 a bit. Suggestions are more than welcome, although lies are better. Um, that was a joke. Please don't lie. Lying is bad.

I hate my luck. This chapter would have been up a month ago, but on the day I was going to post this chapter my computer completely died. It's been in the shop for a month. But now it's back and here's chapter 7.

**Chapter 7: Consequences**

So maybe going to the prison had not been the best idea.

Now that Dodger had time to think, he was seriously regretting his actions. He should have thought that someone might recognize him. He _did _cause quite a scene at his trial, but that was years ago.

He had never thought for a second that anyone would remember him. Why would they? Hundreds of prisoners were probably held in those cells every year and six years had passed since Dodger had been a prisoner there.

It was coincidental, that's all. It was just a really bad coincidence.

Why had that jailor remembered him of all people?

Dodger knew he should never have gone to the prison at all. It was just that he really wanted to get rid of the responsibilities of watching this child and the only way to know how long it was going to last would be to find the boy's mother and ask. It just so happened that his mother was in prison, so that's where they went.

Who would have thought that one jailor whom he had not seen in six years would remember him?

But then again…

The Dodger could remember his trial vividly. He could remember it like it was yesterday.

He remembered being arrested. He remembered being taken to the prison and placed in a cell where he had been forced to spend the night. The next day, he had been taken abruptly from his cell by the same jailor he had previously encountered. The jailor had told him he was going to his trial. Dodger put up quite a fight when he was told to take his hat off before entering the courtroom, but in the end, he lost the battle and begrudgingly held his hat in his right hand.

The jailor had walked him into the room where his trial was to be held and stood next to Dodger the whole time as if he expected him to try and run away.

Dodger suddenly remembered one small, trivial part of the trial when the magistrate had asked if Dodger had ever been there before.

The jailor had answered, "He ought to have been, a many times. He has been pretty well everywhere else. _I_ know him well, your worship."

He had obviously seen Dodger before, many times.

This particular jailor must have had a very good memory.

So, if the jailor had known him so well then, all he had really needed was something to remind him of Dodger and he would surely remember. Of course, Dodger had just given him that reminder.

He knew better than to just walk into a prison like that. Fagin had always discouraged it because they could be recognized.

But Dodger had always been one to live life in an arbitrary fashion. He never thought ahead, never thought of consequences.

Now, anything could happen. Who knew what the jailor would do. Perhaps he would think that the Dodger's sentence had been cut short for some reason, and he had been sent home. Then, he would think nothing of it and leave Dodger alone. Or he might alert the other police that Dodger had escaped. Soon, all the police in London might be after him. Then what?

They should not have gone to the prison.

They were almost home by this point and Dodger had not even noticed where they were going. He also had not heard Timothy chattering away at his side. He was getting better at tuning him out.

Once they were inside and Dodger was sure they had not been followed, Dodger informed Timothy that they would not be going back to work after lunch that day.

Timothy was rather excited about having a day off, but Dodger did not know why. The child had nothing to do with his time. Surely he would entertain himself by talking.

Dodger flopped down on his hammock and thought that perhaps if the boy thought he was sleeping, he would leave him alone.

It worked…for a little while.

Dodger thought back to his conversation with Bet. Was what she had said true? All of his friends were gone.

Of course it was true. Bet would not lie to him, at least, not about something this serious.

Fagin was dead. Nancy was dead. Sikes was dead. Charley was a farmer, which was as good as dead as far as the Dodger was concerned.

There was no one left. No one.

There had been an attack. That was why Fagin's den had looked the way it had when Dodger had visited it only weeks before. They had been forced out.

Tom was still alive, the Dodger reminded himself. So was Bet. A lot of good they were though, working and getting arrested.

Bet would only be in jail for another few weeks and Tom would be back soon, too. It was only a matter of time before Dodger wouldn't be so alone anymore. He would have friends again.

In the meantime, he had Timmy to keep him company.

Speaking of Timmy, he was being awfully quiet and it was beginning to worry Dodger.

A loud crashing noise from the next room was a sure sign that Timmy was still alive.

Dodger groaned and decided to ignore the sound. He would go see the damage later.

Suddenly, he was forced back to the present and the problem at hand. What would the two of them do about the fact that Dodger had been recognized?

They could not possibly stay hidden in this room until Bet and Tom came to retrieve Timothy. They would starve.

They would just have to be a little more careful from now on. London was a big enough place. They could blend in. Sure, that would work. They'd be fine, and there was nothing else to worry about…right?

Dodger was again brought back to his senses when Timothy cautiously stuck his head into the room.

"What did you do?" Dodger asked, not even looking up at the child.

Timothy laughed nervously.

"Er," he started slowly, carefully trying to pick his words. "The table broke."

And sure enough, the table lay in pieces on the floor.

Bet could not possibly return soon enough.

* * *

**AN: **So, this chapter was short because I was trying to keep it as simple as possible. It's rather boring but necessary. Yes, it's definitely necessary. Um, I don't know when chapter 8 will be up because, quite honestly, I have no clue what it's going to be about. Yeah, so wish me luck so that I can think of a chapter 8. Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews! I feel like this is a cheating chapter because it is so short and boring, but then again, that's kind of what it is. I will try to put chapter 8 up as soon as possible to make up for this chapter but I'm not promising anything. Again, thanks for the reviews!

**Um...what is my name again: **Haha! You have no idea how entertaining it was for me to listen to you babble on everyday about who you thought Timmy's parents were. It was very amusing. Yes, you did guess Tom at one point but I never told you if it was right or not. You didn't even try to guess the mother. Well, now you know. I figured you'd like that last line. You're very predictable. Here's your chapter 7. Now, will you stop with the Mexican jokes? They aren't funny…and it's not my fault my computer died. You act like I planned it…

**Anonymous: **Nice try, Kelly. Please only review once per chapter. Reviewing twice won't make me write any faster.

**Mlle. Verity: **That was one of the many problems I had with chapter 6. I didn't know how else to write that part so I just had him arbitrarily decide to go visit the prison. He was just so tired of having to watch Timmy that he didn't even stop to think about the consequences but just went. Normally, he wouldn't have taken that chance, but he has been away for quite some time so he didn't think anyone would recognize him, which they wouldn't have if he had just kept his mouth shut. That's what this chapter is for. It's to have him realize the consequences of his actions in chapter 6. This will also lead to various problems later in the story. Thank you for the constructive criticism. I hope I have everything worked out. Please tell me if this still doesn't clear everything up.

**FrodoFever: **Thank you very much. I hope you will read the rest of the story. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for the review.

**Hannah the Fly: **I'm glad you liked chapter 6. I hope you will enjoy chapter 7. I agree that the 1948 movie is one of the best Oliver Twist movies. It is closer to the book than any of the other movies I've seen. I would imagine they had to cut out a lot of the book because the book is so long. They would never be able to fit all of it into a movie. It would be wonderful if they could though. I didn't like the 1998 version very much. Dodger was so out of character that it annoyed me (I judge the movies by the Dodger in it…sad, I know), and he was much older than the other kids. My brother laughed at me because I cringed every time Elijah Wood spoke. I couldn't stand his accent. Let's face it, he was just not meant to play Dodger. I've never seen the miniseries. I can't imagine how that would be good at all. I have, however, seen the play that is currently playing around the United States. It was really good. It was almost exactly like the musical. I enjoyed it. The actors were all very talented even though they all faked the British accents. They were more convincing than Elijah Wood. I read chapter 4 of your story and I tried to review but my evil computer would not let me. I will try again later, but if it still doesn't work I just wanted to let you know that I liked it. Yeah, my review would be better than "I liked it" but I can't review at the moment. Anyway, keep up the good work. Thanks for reviewing. I hope you enjoy chapter 7.

**ArtfulDodgerLover: **I think your review got cut off a bit. I am interested to know what you were trying to say, so if you wouldn't mind reviewing again I would appreciate it. Thanks for reviewing!

**Dstrbd child: **I own the movie _Oliver!_ too. It's one of my favorites. In fact, during the summer, I made my brothers watch it with me every day while I was babysitting them. It was amusing because they would act out the "I'd Do Anything" scene and I had to be Dodger because I know all the words and they would fight over which one of them should be Nancy. They got into a fistfight over who was a better Nancy once. It was funny. I'm glad you like this story. No, Timmy is not a mini-Dodger. He is definitely his own character. He is modeled a bit after my six-year-old brother. I like his character.Thanks for your reviews! Enjoy chapter 7.

Thanks for all the reviews! Over 20! I'm so excited!

Chapter 8as soon as possible

Read and review!

Thanks!


	8. A Familiar Face

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. _Gasp!_ Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?

**A/N: **Sometimes I think the only reason I'm writing this story is so that I can respond to my reviews. It's rather sad when your review response section is longer than the actual chapter. Sorry about that. I hope this makes up for the last chapter.

**Chapter 8: A Familiar Face**

"Don't draw attention to yourself," Dodger commanded.

Timothy nodded.

"All we need is some food for today and maybe tomorrow," Dodger instructed. "Don't take more than you have to. We're already risking it by being around people."

Timothy nodded again.

"Right, so do you remember the plan?" Dodger asked.

Timothy nodded.

"Good. You get the food and I'll get the money," Dodger said. "Maybe we can actually buy some of our meals."

Timothy nodded once again.

"Let's move out," Dodger ordered.

Timothy saluted and hurried off down the street.

Dodger started off in the opposite direction. Being inconspicuous had never been a problem for him, but now he had to be extra careful. He had explained the current situation to Timmy who had agreed to be as careful as possible.

Dodger had risked his life to get back to England and neither he nor some little kid was going to mess up his chances of staying there.

He managed to secure a fair sum of money.

Satisfied with his day's work, he headed home. He had also managed to remain unseen. He hoped Timmy was able to do the same.

Timothy arrived back only a short while after Dodger. He carried with him a small sack of food. They had enough food to last them about two days and enough money to last them another four or five. That meant they would not have to leave the safety of their home for a week or so except to buy food, but that was legal.

But, after only three days, Timmy was starting to grow restless. Dodger sent him out to buy sausages and bread, but it was not enough excitement for him. He wanted to leave the house and do what he wanted. Dodger was on his last nerve with the child. He did not think he could handle him for very much longer.

"Can we _please_ go somewhere?" he begged one morning.

"No," was Dodger's response.

"Please?"

"No."

"I won't break anything."

"No."

"I won't get caught."

"No."

"But Dodger!"

"No!"

"Fine," Timmy sulked. "But I'm bored."

Dodger did want to get out of the house. He was feeling almost as restless as Timothy was. He was not used to having to stay put for so long, but it was necessary.

It would only be a few more days before they were out of money and supplies and would have to leave again, but it did not make a difference. Timmy had accidentally broken almost everything in sight just because of his carelessness. Dodger had had enough.

"Dodger?" Timmy said that evening.

"No," Dodger responded automatically.

"Why not?" Timothy pouted. "You didn't even listen to what I was going to say!"

"Fine," Dodger sighed. "What were you going to say?"

"I was going to ask if we could go somewhere."

"No."

"Not even just to the Three Cripples?"

At this, Dodger's snapped to attention.

"What did you say?" he asked.

Timothy sighed.

"I asked if we could go to the Cripples," he repeated.

"How do you know about that place?" Dodger questioned. "It's gone."

"No it's not," the child replied. "I've been there plenty times. Mum said they rebuilt it."

"Do you know where it is?" Dodger was curious now.

"Yes."

"Could you get there from here?"

"Yes."

Dodger thought for a moment.

They would definitely be safer if they stayed where they were, but he really wanted to see if the boy was telling the truth.

Against his better judgment, Dodger agreed to go.

-

The two boys crept quietly through the dark alleys. They could not risk getting caught.

Timothy led the way with the Dodger close behind him paying attention to their surroundings so as not to get lost on their way home.

"I think we're almost there," Timothy breathed. "Yes, there it is!"

Dodger looked ahead of them to see a dim light coming from the upper parts of an old building. It certainly did not look like a bar, but then again, the people there _were_ in hiding.

"Are you sure this is it?" Dodger asked.

Timmy nodded.

"I'm sure of it," he replied.

Dodger followed the child into the building and up a flight of stairs. There, they came to a closed door.

"Knock on it," Timmy instructed.

Dodger knocked firmly three times. A large man answered it. He glanced at them for a moment and then stepped to the side so they could enter.

"Timmy!" a man behind the counter cried. "Where have you been lately? Where's your mother?"

"My mother is in prison at the moment," Timmy replied, sitting down in a chair. "I've been staying with Dodger."

"Dodger?" the man repeated, turning his attention to the person who was the current topic for discussion. "Wasn't you one of Fagin's boys?"

"Yeah," Dodger said, seating himself at the table Timmy had chosen. "Do I know you?"

"No," the man said with a shake of his head. "I don't believe so, but I've heard Tom and Betsy and a few others talk about you before. Apparently, you were a pickpocketing prodigy. They said you were one of the best."

Dodger listened in silence.

"I believe they said you was arrested though," the man continued.

"I was," Dodger said simply. "But I managed to get away."

The man nodded.

"I believe that," he said. "According to the stories I've heard, that sounds just like something you would do."

"I'm glad nobody's forgotten about me over the years," Dodger laughed. "It seems they've all taken the liberty of making sure nobody would."

"Aye," the man said. "You are often the topic of conversation around here, you and that Oliver Twist fellow."

"You've heard stories about him too?" Dodger frowned. "Could you tell me what you know? I've been away for a while and missed all the excitement. Bet told me bits and pieces of it, but she was a little short on time."

The man obliged and spent several hours explaining what had happened that fateful night and the events that led up to it. Dodger listened intently while Timmy amused himself by visiting with the other occupants of the bar and playing with a small puppy.

After the story was over and Dodger was satisfied with the answers he had received, he ordered food and drinks for both himself and Timothy. Dodger ate in silence while Timmy talked to the bartender, whose name was Hopkins, as Dodger had come to find out.

"Dodger!" Timothy cried. "You know what we need? We need a dog."

The child erupted in laughter as the puppy under the table licked his ankle.

"No," Dodger replied.

"Please?" Timothy begged. "I like dogs. I'll take care of it."

"You can take that one if you like," Hopkins offered.

"No dogs," Dodger said firmly.

Timothy pouted, but gave up trying.

Dodger thanked Hopkins for his hospitality and led Timmy towards the door. As they were leaving, a voice called out to them.

"Young man," an elderly man called.

Dodger stopped Timothy from leaving and walked over to the man's table in the corner.

"I overheard your conversation," the man said. "I understand you're interested about what happened to Fagin and the others. I am curious as to why you wish to know so much." He paused. "You look oddly familiar. Do I know you?"

"I worked for Fagin for many years," Dodger explained. "However, I was fortunate enough to have been gone when Fagin was took. I simply wanted to know what had happened. I do believe you know me, for I recognized you immediately. I only hope you haven't forgotten me already."

"Jack Dawkins?" Toby Crackit said. "Is it really you? You have returned. You always were the artful one."

Dodger laughed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small boy yawn and slowly chase after a puppy, as if he was too tired to continue playing.

"I'll have to talk to you another time," he said. "Timmy and I need to be heading home."

After saying goodbye, Dodger and Timothy began the journey home.

"Can we go back tomorrow?" Timothy asked.

"I don't know if it's safe," Dodger replied.

"But we didn't get caught today," Timothy said.

"But tomorrow is another day."

And indeed, it was.

* * *

**A/N: **Finally! I am so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I had writer's block and could not think of anything to write about. I don't like this chapter very much, but hopefully nobody else hates it too much. At least I have an idea for chapter 9, so it should be up soon.

In the meantime, I've started a second story. I know most of you have already read it, but for those of you who haven't, please go look. I'm not sure how much longer this story will last, but I have a feeling the other one will be fairly long.

Thanks once again to my wonderful reviewers!

**Foot: **Here's chapter 8. Thanks for looking it over for me and convincing me to post it. I wasn't going to because I didn't like it, but you said you liked it so I figured I'd give it a whirl.

**ArtfulDodgerLover: **Thanks! Don't worry, we're all obsessed. That's why we're here.

**Mistress of Magic3: **Oh yay! Thanks! No, this is definitely not over yet. I will announce when it is. I think there are still a few more chapters left. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**MyStIc BlAcK PhOeNix: **Thanks!Yes, you should definitely read the book. It's worth it. Have fun with your play. I wish I could act. Then I would try out for Oliver! someday. Enjoy!

**dstrbd child: **Yes, my brothers are odd. They make me laugh though. I hope you like this chapter!

**Toff: **Aww, I wish we had been forced to watch movies like that in junior high. Yes, Dodger is definitely a toff.

**Fhire: **Wow, when I saw all of your reviews I thought my inbox had exploded. Thanks! You really made my day. I posted this chapter as soon as possible after reading your reviews for fear of being hunted, caught, killed, gutted, skinned, and hanged. That was definitely the most threatening review I've ever received. The play is very good. You should go see it if you ever get the chance. Congratulations on your part. That sounds like a lot of fun. Picking pockets is fun. I want to be like the guys on TV who can steal watches and stuff. It's never too late to say happy birthday. Happy birthday to you too! I'm really glad you like this story. Here's chapter 8. I hope you like it!

Read and review!


	9. Just Another Day

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. _Gasp!_ Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?

**A/N: **For all In the Beginning readers, I am putting that story to the side until I finish this one. I think this story will only last a few more chapters. I'd be surprised if it made it to fifteen chapters altogether. I was right when I began the other story in saying it was not wise to have two stories going at once. I can't handle it. So, until this one is over, I will not be updating In the Beginning. This will be my main focus. I promise that as soon as I finish this one I will start on that one again. Thanks for understanding!

**Chapter 9: JustAnother Day**

The two boys did not return to the pub. The very next day, Timmy had asked if they could, but Dodger had said no.

He had thought it would be a bad idea to go to the Cripples that one time, but he had been wary because of the fact that they could get caught. However, that was not why they should not have gone. Now, Timmy expected to be allowed out of the house every night. It was because of the child's pent up energy that Dodger made an important decision.

He had been toying with an idea for several days, but he had been unsure what to do about it. Finally, Timothy's restlessness helped him make up his mind.

He was fairly certain of what he was doing. He had seen Bill Sikes do the same thing countless times, but on a slightly grander scale.

He would send Timothy to a house on the outskirts of town where the boy would pretend to be lost. There, he would take any money or small items of value he could find. A day or two later, Dodger would come to the door of the same house and ask if they had seen his lost brother. Then, it being too late for the two of them to start the journey home, they would be invited to spend the night there. In the morning, Dodger and Timothy would leave the house slightly richer than they had been when they had first entered it.

It was a good plan in Dodger's eyes, but so much could go wrong. He knew what would happen if they were caught, but he was anxious to get out of the house and do something he had not done in years that he was willing to pay whatever consequences he was faced with. He would just have to try not to get caught.

-

"So what's my name?" Dodger asked for the tenth time.

"Charles," Timmy replied in an exasperated tone.

"And what's your name?"

"William."

"Good."

They had made-up names just in case something happened and they needed to protect their true identities. Dodger did not know why they would, but you could never be too careful.

"So, do what I say," he instructed. "I'll take you to the place where you will stay and then wait until tomorrow to come get you, understand? Just do everything I've told you."

Timmy nodded.

It was still dark outside. It would not be morning for another two hours. Dodger wanted to get an early start.

The two boys left their house and headed out of London. It was a long way to where they were going. They walked for several hours. Then, after the sun had been up for quite some time, they hopped onto a wagon and rode for a while.

"I'm getting bored," Timothy complained. "Are we almost there?"

"No," snapped Dodger. "Keep quiet." He checked to make sure the driver had not noticed them. He hadn't.

They traveled all day long, stopping shortly for food and to switch carts so as not to wear out their welcome. Dodger was surprised at how few questions Timothy asked. It was almost as if he was used to doing things like this. But then again, there was no telling what he had had to do to get money for his parents. They were thieves too, after all.

Timmy fell asleep after a while. Dodger soon grew tired also but did not dare fall asleep. So many things could happen while he was sleeping. They could pass their destination and end up somewhere on the other side of the country with no clue how to get back to London. The driver could stop and find them in his cart and have them arrested without their even noticing it. No, it was best at least one of them stayed awake.

Dodger fought off the fatigue as best he could. Just as he thought he would not be able to fight it any longer, he spotted a large house in the distance. That one would do.

"Timmy," he whispered, shaking the little boy. "Get up. We're here."

Timmy woke up and rubbed his eyes. He looked at Dodger and nodded as if to verify that he was ready.

The two boys jumped from the back of the cart and began to walk toward the house. The residents would be sleeping, but that was fine. It might catch them off guard.

They began reviewing the plan one last time.

"My name is William," Timothy repeated robotically. "I have been separated from my brother, Charles. I don't know where I am and have no place to stay. Please help me."

"Good," Dodger said, slightly worried Timmy would not be able to pull it off. "You might want to add some feeling when you do it for the people though. What is your real mission?"

"I am to make these people believe that I am a poor lost child. Then, I should take anything I possibly can and hide it in a pillowcase which I will slip out the window for you."

"Exactly." Dodger nodded. "And tomorrow night, I will come looking for my lost brother. You will act happy to see me. We will both spend the night there and in the morning, we will collect our pillowcases and be on our way."

"I understand," Timmy replied.

"Good."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. The house grew steadily closer and closer until they were almost in front of it.

"Ready?" Dodger whispered. Timothy nodded. "Go."

Dodger hid around the corner of the house and listened so as to know whether or not it was safe to continue with the plan.

Timmy knocked on the door. After a little while, someone answered it.

"May I help you?" a man's voice asked.

"I-I'm lost," Timmy replied, sniffling slightly.

Dodger smiled to himself. If Timothy could fake tears, they were set. Nobody could turn away a crying child.

"Come in," the man said worriedly. "Come in and tell us everything. We'll help you. Don't cry."

"T-thank you, sir," Timmy was saying as the door shut behind the two.

Dodger turned from his hiding place and began to walk around the house. He could see several people sitting around the kitchen table. There was a man, a woman, and Timmy. The boy was still crying and he looked like he was explaining why he was there. The woman had her arm around him trying to calm him down.

Still smiling with satisfaction, Dodger turned and began to look for a place to stay until the following afternoon. He found an abandoned barn behind the house. There must have been a farm there at one time, but it was not there anymore. The barn would provide adequate shelter for a day.

He allowed himself to sleep late the next morning. There was nothing to do until later anyway. When he finally woke, Dodger assumed it was almost midday. Timmy would be setting his pillowcase outside of his window soon. He needed to be there to retrieve it.

He watched the house for signs of movement from behind a tree several meters away. Finally, a window slid open slowly. Dodger watched it. Timmy appeared at it and looked around. Assuming the coast was clear, he dropped a white bag to the ground and disappeared back inside, closing the window behind him.

Dodger imitated his motions and checked the area to make sure he was alone. Then, he crept along the back of the house below the windows until he reached Timmy's pillowcase. He picked it up and crept stealthily back to the barn with it.

There, he emptied it of its contents. There was pocket watch, some spare bed linens, and a candlestick among other items. It wasn't a bad collection of goods. They could probably find better things, which they would do later that night. But for now, he would wait until it was time.

When the sun was setting on the horizon, Dodger decided it was safe. He walked past the house through the trees and came out a good distance away. That way, if anyone were to look out the window, it would seem like he had been walking down the street.

He approached the house the same way Timmy had the day before and knocked on the front door. A man answered it.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"Yes," Dodger replied, doing his best to sound worried. "My name is Charles. I've lost my younger brother and I'm terribly worried. Have you seen a small boy around here by chance?"

Realization crossed the man's face. "Yes, actually," he said. "Come in. He showed up at our doorstep just last night. He was quite shaken up himself." He led Dodger down a narrow hallway. "He's eating his supper in the kitchen right now."

They entered a kitchen and Dodger took the opportunity to take a look around him. These people were certainly wealthy. Suddenly, he was hit by something small, which collided with his middle at full speed.

It took him by surprise and knocked the breath out of him for a second, but he quickly recovered. Looking down, he saw a small child. He instantly remembered why he was there and that he should be acting happy to see this boy.

"I knew you'd find me!" Timothy exclaimed. "I was so worried."

"It's alright," Dodger consoled. "Mother will be so happy to know you're safe."

A woman he had not noticed before made her presence known by pulling Timothy back to his seat.

"Finish your supper, William," she said. Then, she turned to Dodger. "Have a seat and I'll fix a plate of food for you."

"Thank you," Dodger muttered, not wanting to stay around these people for very long.

He took a seat across the table from Timothy who was very preoccupied with his food. Dodger didn't blame him. They never ate like this at home.

"William is such a well-behaved child," the woman was saying. The man nodded in agreement. "We were half hoping you would not find him here. That way, we could have adopted him."

Timmy's head snapped up instantly and he began to shake it urgently. When the woman looked at him he smiled and shoveled more food into his mouth. After she looked away again, he stared wide-eyed at Dodger in a 'please take me away from here' way.

The woman placed a plate of food in front of Dodger who thanked her and began to eat.

"Of course that's a terrible thing to say," she continued. "Your poor mother must be worried sick. We are glad you found him." The man nodded again. "How is it you two got separated?"

Dodger paused and pretended to be chewing a mouthful of food. When he had come up with a story, he swallowed the imaginary food and answered.

"We were on our way back from the market. Our mother is ill and she asked us to go out of our way a bit to get a few things for her. Of course, we agreed. But on the way home, it was getting late and Will was growing tired. So, I suggested he climb into the back of the wagon and sleep in the hay. He was asleep when we hit a rather large hole in the road and he fell out of the back of the wagon."

"You didn't hear him?" the man asked.

"No," Dodger said. "The horses were making quite a lot of noise. I did not hear him if he cried for me to stop."

"I didn't," Timmy spoke up. "By the time I realized what was going on, you were too far away for me to stop you. Luckily, this house was not far off and I was welcomed."

The woman scooped the child up in a hug. Timmy made a small choking sound but stopped quickly at a sharp look from Dodger.

"It's getting rather late," the man said. "Do you think you can start your journey home at this hour?"

"No, I'd rather not," Dodger replied. "We don't want a repeat of what happened last time, but I don't want to be in your way."

"Of course not!" the woman exclaimed. "You can spend the night here and get an early start in the morning."

"Thank you. That would be excellent."

So, Dodger was put up in a spare room next to Timothy's. The two of them waited until they were certain that the older couple were asleep before creeping cautiously from their respective rooms.

Holding a pillowcase, Dodger led Timmy into the kitchen. There, they took several expensive dishes and pieces of silverware. They took the more expensive looking things that would not be discovered missing before they left the following morning.

At one point, Timothy dropped a few spoons on the floor. They fell with a crash. Dodger held his breath in hopes that nobody had heard. Luckily, they had not.

After searching the house for anything else of value that they could risk stealing, Dodger took the sack back to his room and deposited it under the window just as Timmy had done earlier.

The next morning, they woke up early, anxious to get out before the residents noticed that anything was gone. They ate breakfast quickly, saying that they needed to get home to attend to their ill mother who would be delighted to know that they were both safe.

Timothy thanked the couple for being so kind and Dodger thanked them for taking care of his brother and allowing them both to stay the night there. Then, they left and headed in the direction they had led their hosts to believe they lived in.

After Dodger was sure they were out of sight, they headed back into the trees. They remained hidden until they were back behind the house. From there, Dodger instructed Timmy to stay while he went to retrieve the pillowcase under the window and the one in the barn.

Soon, they were back on the road, safely returning home with two sacks full of stolen goods. Timmy ran ahead, laughing hysterically.

"Wasn't that fun, Dodger?" he cried. "You should have seen the look on that old lady's face when I told her how my mother was dying and I could not find my brother. She looked like she was going to cry."

Dodger could not help but laugh. This boy was definitely meant to by a thief. Nobody else could take such pleasure in something so wrong.

"Why did you look so appalled at the thought of being adopted by those people?" Dodger asked. "I don't know anyone who doesn't want to be rich."

"They were so _boring,_" he said, stressing the last word. "It was no fun. They would never let me play outside or go to the pub whenever I wanted. They would make me learn how to read and write or something awful." He pulled a face of disgust.

Dodger snorted. "You did good, kid," he said, ruffling Timmy's hair and stopping the oncoming cart at the same time.

The driver surveyed them with interest. "Need a ride?" he asked.

"Yes," Dodger replied. "My brother and I need to get back to London. Can you take us there?"

"What's in the bags?" the driver asked suspiciously.

"A few things our ill mother requested we get for her," he said without hesitation.

"You can ride in the back."

Dodger almost tipped his hat to the man before he remembered he did not have one. He would have to find one soon.

* * *

**A/N: **I am sorry it took me a while to get this chapter up. I was slightly distracted by life. Fortunately, this story will not take as long to update as usual from now on. I will be focusing on this one until it is finished. (See the above author's note for details.) I have outlined the rest of this story and there will be fifteen chapters altogether. That means there are only six chapters left. It makes me sad to think that this is finally coming to an end, but I'm happy at the same time because it means I can move on to bigger and better things.

I definitely won't be updating for a while because I am going to England for a few weeks. As soon as I get back, I hope to be able to post chapter 10. I can't believe I actually made it to 10 chapters. I never knew I had that much stamina.

Thanks for reading!

**Forever Tainted**: Yes, Dodger is the best of Fagin's gang and I will never forgive Oliver for getting them in trouble. No, I've never seen the Australian TV show, but I've heard all about it. It doesn't sound good. Dodger doesn't need to redeem himself. Everybody likes him just like he is. I added the hat part at the end of this chapter just to let you know I haven't forgotten about it. He will definitely get one in just a few more chapters. Thanks for reading!

**Lksdnjgoairesslkdfj**: Nice name. I'm glad you like this story and that you're starting to like Timmy. He's a good kid. I'll forgive you for not reviewing for so long. I know how annoying your computer can be. Enjoy chapter 9.

And for those of you who like the Artful Dodger's partner in crime, my friend Kelly (Pickpockets Anonymous) has started a story about Charley Bates (the second best character in Oliver Twist). It's an extremely funny story about Charley, and though I'm not quite sure about the plot yet, I think it's about him adjusting to farm life. It's called "It's All Dark", and you should go read it in the Musicals/Plays section.

Thanks for reading! Review!


	10. Reunited

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. _Gasp!_ Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?

**A/N: **Umm…I don't really have anything to say. Here's chapter 10!

**Chapter 10: Reunited**

Dodger thanked the driver for getting them to London and told him they would go the rest of the way by themselves. It was dark by the time they made it back home.

"I have an idea," Dodger said suddenly. "Let's go to the Three Cripples and I'll buy you a drink to celebrate."

Timothy liked the idea and all but ran to the pub.

But just as they were entering the door, Timmy froze. Then, he ran straight for a table in the corner.

"Mamma!" he cried. "Papa!"

"Timmy!" a woman exclaimed, as Timmy barreled into her.

Dodger smiled. There, at the table, were Bet and Tom. He nodded to Hopkins at the bar and made his way over to the table where his old friends were hugging their son.

Bet looked up at him and smiled.

"Thanks for taking care of him," she said.

"Jack!" Tom exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're a sight for sore eyes. I never thought I'd see you again."

"Yeah," Dodger said. "It's great to be back."

Timmy settled himself in his mother's lap.

"Where have you two been?" Bet asked.

Dodger held up the sacks. "On the job."

"You were always a hard worker," Tom said, clapping him on the back. "Have a seat."

"We were worried when we couldn't find the two of you," Bet said. "But Hopkins told us you had been here just a few days ago."

"When did you get back?" Dodger asked.

"I was released just two days ago, but Tom had been back for a whole week by that time."

"How long have you been here?" Tom redirected the question.

"I've lost track of time," Dodger replied. "I think it's been almost two months."

"I never thought I'd see you again," Tom kept repeating, shaking his head.

"Mother," Timmy whined. "Can I have something to eat?"

"Of course," she replied. "Go tell Hopkins what you want."

The boy slid off of his mother's lap and ran to the bar.

"He's a good kid," Tom said. "He's a little hyper at times, but who isn't at his age?"

"I know I was a handful," Dodger replied, nodding.

"Yes, Fagin liked to tell stories of how he must have been insane to take you in at such a young age," Bet laughed. "You were a lot of work for him to keep up with."

"Nancy took pretty good care of me though."

"Ay, that she did." She sighed. "Nancy was the kindest person I've ever met." And with that, she burst into tears causing several people to cast strange looks at them.

"The night she was killed," Bet continued once she had calmed down. "She had been to see those people who had been kind to Oliver Twist. Fagin sent that Morris Bolter after her to spy."

"Who?"

"Oh! Forgive me, you don't know him, do you?"

Dodger shook his head.

"He came to Fagin just after you were arrested," she continued. "In fact, it was he Fagin sent to watch your trial and come back with information about it."

"You were arrested?" Timothy asked through a mouthful of food.

"We can discuss that later," Dodger said.

"So then this Bolter told Fagin all about Nancy's conspiring against them," Bet resumed. "And Fagin told Bill who-" Here she began to cry again.

"Several days later," Tom said, taking over the story telling. "On a hunt for Bill, police rushed into every building where they had evidence that Bill went on a regular basis. This included The Three Cripples and Fagin's, of course." He paused. "You remember Charley Bates?"

"Of course."

"Yes, you would." Tom laughed. "You two were quite the pickpocketing team. Well, when Fagin's place was taken, Charley and I managed to escape together. As far as I know, we were possibly the only two to get away. Figuring it was too dangerous to travel together, I headed to Jacob's Island and Charley was to follow after dark.

But before he could arrive, who should show up than Bill Sikes himself. Charley was deathly afraid of the murderer. We could all tell, but he acted brave. Yes, he acted very brave. He threw himself at Sikes and attempted to kill him himself. He failed."

Dodger laughed. "Poor Charley. He overestimates his own strength."

"Of course, the mob was not far behind. They soon found our hideout though they couldn't get in. Bill, in a hurried attempt to get away, ended up climbing onto the roof and jumping. He got what he deserved."

"That's pleasant," Dodger muttered.

"What about you?" Bet asked. "How did you end up here again?"

"After my trial," he began. "I was sent to America where I was to do hard labor for life. After six years, I found a window of opportunity. Of course, I jumped at the chance to escape."

He paused to remember exactly what had happened.

"One night," he pursued. "My roommate, or cellmate if you wish, became violently ill. He began to vomit and have spasms. While doctors and guards rushed in to help him, I slipped past them all unnoticed through the open door. After that, it was all a matter of getting past the guards at the front entrance, which was easily done with a bit of artful dodging."

Tom laughed heartily and clapped him on the back. "Well done!" he cried. "Fagin would have been proud."

"Why were you arrested?" Timmy asked suddenly.

"For picking pockets," Tom answered. "You don't want to end up like the Dodger or your mother. So, don't get caught."

"Alright," the child replied happily.

"Tom," Dodger interrupted. "What happened to Charley after you saw him on the night Bill died? Bet mentioned something about farming?"

"Yes," he replied with a laugh. "He claimed he was so appalled at what Sikes had done to Nancy that he ran off to become a farmer's drudge. I suppose he's been there ever since."

"Where?"

"He told me he would be heading up to Northamptonshire." He shrugged.

"Mother," Timothy whined. "I'm tired."

"Oh, he didn't get much sleep last night," Dodger said.

"Maybe we should take him home," Bet suggested.

Tom agreed and the three of them bade Dodger a good night and left.

While walking home, Dodger kept thinking about his conversations with Bet and Tom. They had been most interesting. Of course, he had heard most of those stories from Bet and Hopkins, but neither of those had been as detailed and informative as Tom.

Of course Tom's stories were better. He had been there, after all. He had seen all of it firsthand.

Here, Dodger made a quick detour without even realizing it and before he knew it, he found himself at the old house where he used to live when he worked for Fagin. He must have not been thinking and had traveled the all too familiar path out of habit.

Shaking his head, he turned away and headed for his home.

Once there, he deposited the sacks of stolen goods and turned for the door once again. He had made up his mind on the way home. He was taking a trip.

And so, making sure he had money, he left his house and London and headed north.

He was going to Northamptonshire to visit a certain farmer.

* * *

**A/N: **A certain farmer…who could that possibly be? I know some people who should be very excited that Charley will soon come into the story.

Sorry it's taken so long to update. I was in England. Lots of fun.

**pickpockets anonymous: **Yeah,Timmy's not quite "artful" yet. I haven't decided yet, but he probably won't be in the story much more now that Bet and Tom are back. Thanks for reviewing. You can stop bothering me about chapter 10 now and start on chapter 11. I don't have any more prewritten. You'll have to force me to start writing again. Good luck with that.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review.


	11. Traveling

**Whatever Happened to Dodger?**

**DISCLAIMER:** Believe it or not, I am not Charles Dickens. _Gasp!_ Sorry to disappoint all of you. I assure you that most of these characters and some of the plot belongs to him, wherever he may be buried.

**SUMMARY: **Did you ever wonder what happened to the Dodger? Charles Dickens gladly tells us what happened to Oliver, Fagin, Charley, Nancy, and Bill, but what happened to that funny boy with the top hat who disappeared from the text around chapter 43?

**A/N: **Look who's still alive! I am so sorry for the long wait, and I know that this chapter is unbearably short, but I promise that I am not giving up on this story just yet. I'm still working. Just give me time.

**Chapter 11: Traveling**

Bet and Tom had said that Charley was in Northamptonshire. Of course, that didn't mean that he was still there. They had not heard from him in a while. It was very possible that he had left and gone somewhere else.

This thought did not bother the Dodger. He was going to Northamptonshire no matter what. Even if Charley wasn't there, someone must know where he went. The trick would be finding him once he got there.

Dodger walked for a while, but sixty miles was a fairly long distance. It would probably take a few days.

The first day passed rather quickly. He walked until he was hungry. Then, he sat on the side of the road and ate one of the apples he had brought with him. When he was finished, he started walking again.

He was still getting used to being alone all the time. He had gotten used to having Timmy around. Whether fortunately or not, Bet and Tom had returned, taken their child back, and left Dodger to go about his business in private once again. It was certainly peaceful, but it would take some getting used to.

A cart passed him, heading in the direction he wanted to go. Walking faster to catch up with it, Dodger climbed into the back and sat among the crops. It was much more pleasant to ride than to walk.

He made sure to be very quiet. The driver would certainly be mad if he turned around and saw this stowaway.

Dodger sat in silence and fiddled with the sleeve of his coat. Soon he was deep in thought. What was he doing? What had possessed him to just pick up and leave London like that?

He was going to find Charley, one of the only friends he had ever had. But then what? What if he couldn't find Charley? He would probably have to visit every farm in the area. That could only be so much fun.

And then what would he do once he found Charley? Of course, there were questions he wanted answered, like why he left London and why he became a farmer.

He didn't expect to stay long. He really wanted to find Charley, ask him a few questions, and try to talk him into coming back to London. Whether Charley said yes or no, Dodger was going back to London in only a few days. Farm life wasn't worth more than two days.

Dodger had become so engrossed in his thoughts that he had not noticed that the cart had come to a stop. The driver turned around and saw him. Thus, the screaming began.

"You there!" he cried. "Get out of my cart! I don't give rides!"

Dodger snapped back to his senses and sprang from the cart before the driver could start throwing things. He stood on the side of the road and watched the cart drive away. So much for that idea. He would have to go back to walking.

He walked until it was nearly dark. By then, he was extremely tired. He hadn't slept in what seemed like forever. So, when the sky began to darken, he left the road and found a spot under a tree where he could not be seen from the road. Sitting with his back against the tree, he fell asleep.

In the morning, he awoke and resumed his walk.

He walked for hours. After only a short period of time, all that walking became monotonous. Soon, Dodger was bored out of his mind.

Much to his disappointment, the condition worsened. It soon began to rain. Dodger had all but given up hope of ever making it to Northamptonshire without dying in some ditch. The rain only made things worse. There was nothing more terrible than walking in the rain.

But, he was on a mission. He had to make it the rest of the way.

So, he kept walking. It rained harder and harder. He was only slightly thankful it wasn't winter. He didn't have the proper attire for walking long distances in the snow. Of course, this thought was overpowered by his wish of having stolen an umbrella before he left London.

The rain continued all day and all night. The next morning, he awoke very wet and very cold. He was even more displeased to find that he was getting sick due to his exposure to the weather. He noticed more and more symptoms as he continued on his way.

His nose was running and his handkerchief was soaking wet and of no use. His head was throbbing. He could no longer feel his feet, and it was becoming difficult to breathe.

Shaking it all off, he set his mind to concentrating on where he was going rather than how he was feeling. He could not do anything about it anyway so why did it matter if he was sick.

But as the day went on and the rain refused to stop, Dodger's condition only worsened. Soon, he was beginning to think that he would have to stop and rest. Unfortunately, he knew he could not do that.

A cart came up behind him, though he did not hear it because his ears were clogged. It slowed next to him so the driver could speak to him.

"Where are you going?" the man asked.

"Northamptonshire," Dodger answered. He noticed that his voice was going too.

The man looked old, much older than Dodger.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked. "You've still got a good walk ahead of you, and it's not healthy to walk in the rain."

Dodger felt himself nod.

"Climb in," the man said.

Getting into the cart was the last thing Dodger remembered before passing out.

- - - -

**A/N: **So I had this chapter all typed and ready to post back in August, but the hurricane hit that weekend. Luckily, I live far enough north (less than 60 miles north of New Orleans) that I didn't get any real damage, but I didn't have access to a working computer for a month. Then there was another hurricane. And then after that, I just kept getting distracted or losing interest in this story. I just read the last chapter, this one, and what I have already written of the next one, and I'm wondering what possessed me to post this. It's not very good at all, but people are reading it, and I _did _have this already written, so I might as well post what I have. I have the feeling that I'll be doing some major revising in the future. I will have to reread this whole story before I can write anything else because I've just about forgotten my entire story line. I'll definitely work on it though, and I'll finish chapter twelve as soon as possible.

I don't know what's happened to the Dickens section of this website. I've been gone for a few months, and it just kind of exploded. I'm excited. There are so many new stories that I haven't read yet. I'll have to get on that. Let me know if you know of a particularly good Oliver Twist story. I remember when I started this story, and there were only like five or six other Oliver Twist fics. It was so hard to get reviews. I like this way better.

And I know that Fanfiction now frowns upon replies in the story, but I just can't break the habit. Sue me.

**Pickpockets anonymous:** Um, I suppose an "I'm sorry" won't keep you from bothering me about taking this long to update. And on top of that, there's no Charley in this chapter, is there? I'm sorry…? Just be happy I didn't give up on this completely like I was thinking about doing.

**Lil1:** Thank you! I'm glad you like this story. I know that the first chapter is a historical inaccuracy, but I hadn't researched it very much at that point. It was just an idea that I couldn't get out of my head. I think that once I finish this story I'm going to go back and edit the whole thing. That will probably include a brand new chapter one. I don't know how long that will take, but I'm definitely going to work on it. I saw the new Oliver Twist movie. I liked it…in a weird way. It was more like the book than the musical was in that all of the characters were not as cheerful and kind. I think Harry Eden played a good Dodger. I really enjoyed it, although parts of the movie seemed to drag on forever. Actually, I can't remember very much of it. I'll have to watch it again. I've never seen the Australian mini-series, but I haven't heard very good things about it. I'm sure Harry Eden was a better Dodger than Luke O'Loughlin, but I really wouldn't know. I'm only going by what I've heard from other reviewers. Thanks for your very long and helpful review. I will definitely work on a new first chapter.

**Sloan-A:** I love the Artful too! He'll get his hat soon enough. Give me just one more chapter or two. Thanks for reviewing!

**Hannah the Fly:** Thank you. I will be updating this story as often as possible from now on…I hope. I think I've missed a few chapters of your story. I've been away from this for far too long, but I'm back now. I'll have to see what you've done since I disappeared.

**Jumanji: **Welcome to the Charles Dickens section! We're all really nice people…most of the time. Don't be a stranger. Make yourself known. I have every intention of continuing this story, although I thought about abandoning it for a while. I hope you'll stay for the rest of the ride.

**Garen Ruy Maxwell: **You should do your own story anyway. I'd like to have something to read, too. I'm sorry about the typos. I don't have anyone to edit it for me, so I do all of my own editing. Sometimes I'm too lazy to do it though, so I just hope that nothing is too terrible. This chapter isn't edited because I had it written from so long ago that I don't remember what was going on, and I wanted to post this chapter tonight before I lost the motivation again and didn't feel like posting. It needed to be done. I'm glad you like this story. Thanks for reviewing!

**MissLovelyx3:** Thank you! I'm glad you like this. Here's you update. Enjoy!

**Ericketiting:** Thank you for all of those reviews. Apparently you just did that today. I don't know why, but I decided to check my reviews today for the first time in months, and I was so surprised to see that someone was getting so excited over my story that I decided to update for the first time since July. Thanks for helping me find my motivation again. This chapter is only up because of you. I'm sure there are a few thankful readers out there along with this thankful writer. Please keep reading and reviewing!

So, chapter twelve will be up…someday. I'll have to figure out where I was and what was going on. So, that will probably take me about a month. According to the outline I don't remember doing, this story will be fifteen chapters long, which still leaves four chapters. After that, I think I'm going to go through an editing stage. If anybody wants to help me with that, I won't turn down a volunteer. Just let me know what you are willing to do.

Thank you so much for your patience with me. I'm not terribly easy to put up with, I know, but you've all done a splendid job so far, and I appreciate it. 


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